


Not Easily Explained

by outatime



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-30 21:45:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8550265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outatime/pseuds/outatime
Summary: The second-to-last night before Bogue arrives in Rose Creek, Billy and Faraday have a conversation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Un-betad. Any mistakes are my own. 
> 
> Can be read as Faraday/Vasquez pre-slash, although interaction between the two of them is minor.
> 
> Also could have been called "In Which Billy Isn't as Quiet as He Pretends to Be, He Just Does It to Mess With People"

Billy watched Goody head outside, already setting down his fork, preparing to follow, until he caught sight of Chisolm following him out into the night. Relaxing, he turned his attention back to his dinner. Over the years, he’d heard enough stories from Goody about Sam Chisolm to know that he didn’t have to worry. Chisolm was the only other person he trusted to watch out for Goody, especially considering the mood he’d been in ever since Faraday had goaded him into shooting that damn target in front of the townsfolk.

He ate in silence for several moments, eyes on the door even as he listened to the boisterous noise around him: Vasquez loudly trying to teach Red Harvest bits of English and Spanish – and really, he found it amusing that none of the others, save for Chisolm, seemed to realize that the Comanche understood English – with Horne piping in every now and then, and Faraday… Actually, he didn’t hear Faraday, which was odd. Every night since they’d arrived in Rose Creek, the other man had been living it up like he fully expected the week to be his last, and he wasn’t quiet about it, normally bickering with Vasquez, or flirting with one of the ladies, all of whom had seemed rather unimpressed with the man.

Almost as if his thoughts had summoned him, Faraday dropped into Goody’s abandoned seat, half a glass of whiskey in his hand. 

The two of them hadn’t spoken much, which was just as well with Billy. He found that he wasn’t terribly fond of the other man. Oh, he was handy with his revolvers, was proving to be resourceful, and would be valuable when Bogue got back with his army into two days, but after the incident while clearing out the town of Bogue’s men, and the way he had trapped Goody into shooting those targets with the townspeople watching the day before, Billy was a bit biased against the other man. So other than the slightest nod of his head in greeting, he didn’t acknowledge the other man.

“You know, you… You, I don’t get,” Faraday said after only a moment, setting his glass on the table and leaning into Billy’s space, obviously not content with the silence. “The others, yes. Mostly. We’re not a complicated bunch. But you… Why are you here, Billy Rocks?”

“How much have you had to drink?” Billy asked dryly, picking at the last of the beans on his plate. “You forget why we spent all day setting up traps around town?”

Faraday flashed him a sharp grin, amused, before he turned serious again. “Not what I meant. I mean, Chisolm sent me after the infamous Goodnight Robicheaux,” he drawled out the name, the mocking tone making Billy bristle. “He didn’t say anything about you. And when he agreed to come, you just followed, without a word. Not that I’m not glad to have you here, mind you. Your little knife trick is impressive. I just… don’t see what you get out of all of this.”

Billy purposefully let the silence stretch before he answered, eating the last bit of his bread and leaning back in his seat, enjoying the way Faraday seemed torn between discomfort and annoyance at the lack of immediate response. “Where Goodnight goes, I follow,” he finally answered after a slow sip of his own whiskey.

Faraday huffed in annoyance, forcing Billy to fight back the smile that threatened. “Yeah, that’s what he said.” Clearly, that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. “But what I don’t understand is, why?”

In a different life, in a different place, had there not been the risk of both he and Goody being hanged in front of the church for saying it, Billy would have considered telling Faraday that he got some very good sex out of the arrangement, if for no other reason than to see the look on the other man’s face. Instead, he settled for silence.

This time, Billy’s attempt to make Faraday uncomfortable with his drawn-out silence worked, and Faraday continued rather than trying to wait Billy out, jolting forward further into his space like an overeager coyote pup. “I mean, what do you get out of following after him? I see what he gets out of this partnership of yours. You win the money, you get his food, light his cigarettes. Cover for him.” The last bit was tinged with a bitterness that didn’t surprise Billy. “And you get to... what? Follow him around, playing his damned manservant?”

Even as obvious as it was that Faraday was clearly trying to get a rise out of him, it was still difficult for Billy to hold onto his impassive facade with the way his temper flared. It was a combination of anger at the implications about Goody, and his own feelings on the matter of servants. Faraday didn’t know - that was one story Goody didn’t tell, no matter how he got to spinning tales - but even as good as he was at pretending to be emotionless, he couldn’t quite prevent the flat anger from slipping into his voice as he said, “I’m not his manservant and he’s not my master.” After a moment of internal debate he added, voice dark, “I killed them.” It wasn’t something he would normally share - after all, only a fool would advertise why they were a wanted man - but in this instance, it was worth it to see the way Faraday’s eyes widened, although whether he was impressed or uncomfortable, it was hard to tell. Likely both, knowing Faraday.

Whichever it was, it didn’t keep him quiet for long. “Well, that makes even less sense! Why would you go kill them just to go follow him around?” For a brief moment, Faraday got uncharacteristically quiet before he leaned forward again, elbows on his knees. “Unless he’s forcing you or something?” It was more of a question, pitched low like he was afraid of who might hear. “I mean, we all know what side he fought on during the war.”

If he hadn’t been so indignant at the slight against Goody at the implication that he would do such a thing, especially now, so angry at Faraday for poking into business he didn’t – couldn’t – understand, Billy might have been surprised by the concern, even if he could guess that it likely stemmed as much from the man’s dislike of Goody as it did any real concern for Billy. “And we all heard what you called it. The War of Northern Aggression, wasn’t it?” he shot back, tone sharp.

To his surprise, Faraday looked a bit cowed at that, scratching uncomfortably at the back of his head. “That’s different. That was playing to a crowd.” Shifting in his seat, he grabbed his glass back up off the table, taking a long drink. 

Billy smiled to himself, leaning forward and glancing down at his plate to hide the way his lips quirked up at Faraday’s obvious discomfort. He expected Faraday to leave after that, for him to slink away to rejoin Vasquez and the others. He was genuinely surprised when he didn’t. 

Slamming the glass back on the table, like he had made up his mind about something, Faraday spoke up again, “So you are here of your own accord?” Like it was important to him.

“I’m here because he’s my friend. I stay with him because that is my choice. He stays with me for the same reason.” He couldn’t explain it beyond that. He wasn’t Goody; he wasn’t skilled at telling stories, didn’t have the words to make Faraday understand, even if he should want to. Still, he couldn’t help but ask. “You don’t have much for friends, do you?”

“Nah, I do better on my own,” Faraday drawled, flashing that cocky grin of his as he stretched back in his chair, making a show of looking at ease.

Billy had to resist the urge to smile at that, although he did roll his eyes. That sounded very familiar. He had been reluctant when Goody had first proposed that they stick together, that night after Goody had found him in that backwater, Texas saloon, when he had decided not to try to collect the bounty on him. Even after he had first agreed, he had been cautious. But that had been years ago, and things had been different for a very long time now.

“Vasquez has been on the run a long time. Non-white man, with a large bounty on his head. Maybe after this, he would appreciate having someone with him he could trust. To watch his back. And another set of guns in between him and people that try to collect on that bounty.”

Faraday was definitely taken aback by that, the seeming change in subject throwing him off, just as Billy had known it would, glancing back over his shoulder at the man in question. Vasquez was hooting with laughter, slapping Red Harvest companionably on the shoulder even as the Comanche remained impassive, Horne chuckling.

For the first time since Faraday had sat down beside him, Billy spoke again before Faraday could. “Maybe eventually, you’ll understand.”

Faraday turned back to him, eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. For a long moment, he stared, probably the longest he’d been quiet - outside of sleep - since they’d met in Volcano Springs. None of them really spoke about what would happen after this was over, all fully aware of the likelihood of there not being an after. Faraday, it seemed, certainly hadn’t considered that things could be different than they had before. It was a shame, Billy thought, because the way Faraday and Vasquez had gone from thinly veiled animosity to something like friendship and genuine respect in only a matter of days… Well, should they somehow miraculously survive the coming battle, perhaps Faraday would understand some day.

“I still don’t get you, Billy Rocks,” he finally said, shaking his head, like Billy was a mystery that he couldn’t quite puzzle out. “But if he’s half as loyal to you as you are to him, maybe we’ll actually get him to pull the trigger this time. We can get the Angel of Death to cover us, hell, maybe some of us will make it out of this.” Finishing off his drink, he pushed himself to his feet, nodding to Billy, whatever curiosity having driven him over to talk apparently satisfied, before making his way back to the others. 

“Hey, I had another drink over here! Who took my whiskey, Vasquez?!”

“No sé nada, güero.”

“Always with the Mexican… You keep calling me handsome like that, I’m going to think you mean it.”

“You wish, güero.” The spanish word was drawn-out this time, a definite, teasing edge to it.

For a long moment, Billy remained where he was, staring at the wall as he finished off the last of his own whiskey. Behind him, he could hear Faraday and Vasquez getting into it again, voices loud and fond, even as Vasquez started swearing in Spanish at Faraday, and Faraday started yelling again, protesting that it wasn’t fair to talk about him when he couldn’t understand, Horne’s distinct voice trying to calm the two of them back down. Before they could get much further, he pushed himself to his feet, heading outside to find Goody.

He didn’t have to go far, the other man lounging in one of the chairs on the porch, Chisolm in another chair beside him, the two of them talking quietly. Billy lingered, using the excuse of lighting a cigarette and taking a slow drag to watch the two of them. There was still that line of tension in Goody’s shoulders, but he seemed more relaxed than he had most of the rest of the day. Smiling faintly, he made his way over to them, purposefully letting his boots scrape on the wood porch so he wouldn’t startle Goody. Coming up behind the other man, he dropped his hand to Goody’s shoulder, letting his fingers linger against the back of his neck far longer than he normally would. It was dark out, most of the townsfolk were either inside or had turned in for the night, leaving only the two of them and Chisolm outside. And maybe talking to Faraday had left him feeling a bit reckless, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. 

Goody leaned back into the touch, tilting his head back to look up at Billy standing behind him, lips curling into a smile as he met his eyes, not looking away until Billy passed him the cigarette he had lit. Billy watched as he closed his eyes, taking a long, slow drag and holding in the smoke for a few seconds before releasing it just as slow. 

“Decide to leave Horne on his own with the children?” Chisolm asked with a lazy grin, eyes briefly drifting to the two of them, to Billy’s fingers still resting against Goody’s neck, smile never faltering

“Red’s with them too,” Billy offered evenly, even if his fingers twitched slightly against Goody’s neck. They had always been very careful about making sure not to get caught, but right now, with only Chisolm as witness, be it because of Faraday or because of the fact that they’d likely all be dead in a few days time, he found that he didn’t quite care.

“They are quite loud, aren’t they?” Goody observed, glancing back at the doors of the saloon as he reached over his shoulder to pass the cigarette back to Billy. Taking only a short puff, he quickly passed it back. This one, he had lit more for Goody than for himself; their supply was starting to run low. If they survived this week, Billy would have to reach out to his contact again, see if he could get more opium. 

“Might as well enjoy themselves while they can,” Chisolm said, still smiling faintly. For several long moments, the three of them remained silent, listening to the happy noise inside, Goody slowly finishing off the cigarette. Finally, Chisolm broke the silence, slapping his hands on his knees as he pushed himself to his feet. “Well boys, I think I’m going to turn in. Still a lot of work to do tomorrow.”

Chisolm stretched, eyes lingering on the church at the end of the street before he turned back to them. “Your boys going to be ready?” he asked Goody.

Goody’s muscles tensed, shoulders drawing into a tight line despite the effects of the tobacco and opium. Even in the dark, Chisolm couldn’t have missed it. He looked sympathetic, but he didn’t take back the question, just waited for Goody to answer; understanding, but not treating the other man any different than he did the others.

Slowly, Goody nodded, pressing back slightly into Billy’s touch. “They wouldn’t have made it with Connolly, but I’ll make sure they’re shooting what we need them to hit.” His voice was unsteady, jittery, like it had been the night before, when he had told Billy the owl was following him again. Billy sighed, quietly, carefully stroking his fingers down Goody’s neck, trying to sooth out at least some of his tension. It wouldn’t work, not totally, but it was better than doing nothing. 

“We can work with that,” Chisolm said, nodding in satisfaction. Heading back to the saloon, he paused at the door, long enough to add, “Try to get some sleep tonight, Goody,” before he ducked back inside, presumably to head up to his room, possibly to encourage the others to head that way as well. 

Billy didn’t know how long they stayed out there, Goody leaning into his touch, muscles tense. Finally, with a shaky sigh, the other man leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he scrubbed his hands over his face.

“Come on, Goody. Let’s head upstairs. Chisolm is right. Tomorrow is going to be a long day,” Billy said, moving around from behind the chair to stand beside the other man, voice low.

“You just want to get me into bed,” Goody responded, trying to tease, although the shaky pitch to his voice made the effort fall flat. 

“And people say I’m hard to read,” Billy drawled, purposefully keeping his tone dry.

That earned him a small, but real smile from Goody. At this point, Billy considered that a victory. After another moment, Goody stood, stretching as Chisolm had and, like Chisolm, his eyes strayed up the street, to the burned out church that seemed to have once been the focal point of the town. 

“Goody,” Billy prompted again when the other man didn’t move, nudging him in the side.

Shaking himself, Goody turned back, flashing the same smile he always did when he was trying to be reassuring. “I’m fine, mon cher.” 

Billy knew Goody too well to believe it, but he didn’t say anything, letting Goody hold on to the illusion. 

“Do you regret coming with me? Do you… want to leave?” Goody asked, suddenly. 

Goody had long stopped expecting Billy to suddenly up and leave him, so Billy didn’t understand why he was, after all these years, asking again. The only thing he could think of was that perhaps he meant this place, Rose Creek, under these circumstances. “It’s a good cause. If we can help these people… It’s worth trying,” he said, slowly. “It was right to come.”

A strange expression crossed Goody’s face then, just for a moment. It left Billy feeling almost off-balance, unused to not being able to read Goody. 

“Yeah,” Goody breathed, although the agreement sounded more like resignation than anything else. 

“Goody?”

“Come on then, mon cher. I want to take you to bed while the others are still downstairs.”

Tomorrow night, when Goody had run, and Billy was alone, attempting to drink himself to sleep, he would regret not pushing the matter, not trying to find out what Goody had meant by the question. But at the moment, Billy was easily swayed, the knowledge that this was, likely, their second-to-last night together something he couldn’t dismiss.

“After you, Goody,” he agreed, smiling faintly, allowing the change in subject.

Because in that moment, he was confident. Not in regards to their chances of survival; he was too much a realist for that. But because, while Faraday might not understand, he and Goody went together, in all things. And an approaching army wasn’t going to change that.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not super familiar with Cajun French. But most fic seems to have Goody using mon cher, while Google says that mon chéri is the more intimate form. Is this is fanfic thing, or is it a Cajun French thing? Let me know if it's something I need to change! EDIT: Due to feedback, I decided to change it to mon cher!


End file.
